This story originally appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer on June 15, 2006.
On my way home from work one night, I took the FX as always. I was the only passenger. And I immediately notice that occupying the front seat were the driver, his wife and their three children.
It was not the first time I saw a driver bring this entire family with him. What really caught my attention was the driver’s mood. It was around 8:30 p.m., and passengers seemed hard to find.
I heard the driver sigh: “Haaaay…buhay…pag-inaalat ka nga naman (Life really sucks when you run out of luck).”
Then his oldest son, who was seated beside him, repeated his the exact same words. At the age of 7 or 8 years, he already seemed to understand the meaning of those words, if the conviction he put behind them was anything to go by.
Then it struck me: How does an 8-year old react to situations like this? Does he fret that there wont be enough kita (income) for his father to but enough food on the table for the entire family or an extra toy or shirt? Or does he just accept it as a fact of life like and adult? And how does a family of five survive on the meager income of a taxi driver who only gets to take home what is left of his earnings after
the boundary and the expenses for gasoline are deducted?
I began to wonder: is this the right environment to raise a child? Is it all right to expose him to the harsh realities of poverty?
That set me off to comparing my family of three to the driver’s family of five.
I have a daughter who is 2 now years old. I can consider ourselves lucky by normal standards. My husband
and I have a steady income. We’re not rich, but we’re all healthy. And we owe nobody some money. But still there are times when we get frustrated. There are times when we feel we’re not earning enough, or we cannot save enough from what we earn. There are moments when, like the driver and his family, we feel that Lady Luck is not on our side.
In times like this, my husband and I would start our endless discussion about emigrating and working abroad. My parents are already there, but we have to wait 15 years before we can join them legally if we bank on their petition. That’s too long a wait for us. We feel restless most of the time. We think that we need to get out of this country, and that we must do it while we’re still young and there are plenty of
opportunities open for us.
But I think the real reason we want to leave is that we don’t want our 2-year-old daughter to be exposed to the kind of environment in which we are living now. We don’t want her to see poverty and what it does to families, and how it debases the children. We dread hearing her ask us one day why street children have to knock on our car windows begging for money. And we dread even more the chance that she would hear the curse being thrown at us if we refuse to open a window and hand over a peso or two.
We don’t want her to see fathers, mothers and children sniffing rugby in open daylight for everyone to see.
We don’t want her to see children’s as young as 2 years forced to sell sampaguitas or rags in the street. We don’t want her so see children who, instead of studying in school or playing in the shade, must try to earn a living under the heat of the sun or drenched by the pouring rain.
Like any parent, we want what is best for our daughter. And that means first of all, living in a country which takes care of its people. We want her to grow up in an environment where people matter more that anything. We want her to grow up imbibing the values of honesty, integrity and discipline.
Of course, she can be taught these values at home. But reality is out there. We can’t control what she will see and hear outside our home. And with the kind of society that we have, I don’t feel I can expose my daughter to the real world.
When I arrived home that night, I looked at my daughter as she welcomed me with a wide smile on her face. I thought her smile was to chase away all my frustrations and fears. I looked at all her toys scattered on the floor, and I was reminded of the FX driver’s three kids who probably fight over which of them will get to play their favorite toy. I looked at her and I thought I could never wipe that happy and innocent smile from her sweet face.
I have always dreamed about his country becoming great someday. I’ve always pictured myself growing old here and waiting to see it happen. Most of our friends have gone to some foreign land with their families. But much as I want to jump on the bandwagon, something always holds me back. I don’t want to give up my hopes for my country. I still want to do my part as a citizen of this land.
I want my daughter to grow up a Filipino in heart and right values in her, someday she will make a difference in our society.
When I look into my daughter’s eyes, I see a brighter future and a whole new world of opportunities. But I just can’t see it happening here, not in this kind of environment. And not now when everything seems to be uncertain.
